


Welcome to The Bates Motel

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fictober, Halloween, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 13:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16682143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: Mulder and Scully spend a night at Bates Motel.





	Welcome to The Bates Motel

“Mulder, you can barely keep your eyes open. We should stop somewhere for the night.” Scully watches him rub his eyes in a furious manner, like a child. They’ve on the road for hours. He turns to her briefly, his eyes red-rimmed and small. “That won’t work,” she says softly. “I’m tired, too. Let’s find a motel and get some sleep.”

“But it’s Halloween, Scully.” She can’t see his face clearly, but she can hear him pout.

“Halloween is almost over,” she says, staring out the window, her own reflection staring back at her. It’s pitch-dark out here in rural Pennsylvania. There might not even be a motel anywhere close. If they don’t find anything in the next twenty minutes, they’ll have to sleep in the car. Her eyes are heavy, her whole body gripped by exhaustion. 

“This is not how I pictured it,” Mulder grumbles. As much as he tries to deny it, he loves Halloween. But he chose this case and he decided to drive out here. This is all on him. She can’t even be angry with him, though. Not when he looks and sounds so sad.

“Mulder, there’s always next year.” He doesn’t answer and keeps driving. Scully is ready to give up and surrender to her fate of sleeping in the car, when a small dot of neon light appears in the distance.

“That better be a motel,” Mulder says. The closer they come, the clearer the can see the blinking lights, the almost empty parking lot. “Honey, we’re home.” Scully would roll her eyes, but she’s preoccupied with the small motel.

“Bates Motel,” she reads, the words feeling strange in her mouth. Mulder grins from ear to ear.

“Think Norman Bates is going to be here?” His bad mood is forgotten for the moment. It’s been a while since Scully has seen Psycho, but this old, rusty motel bears no resemblances to the fateful house in the movie. She shudders anyway as they step inside, a draft catching her by surprise. Mulder is right behind her, touching her back gently when she stops walking.

“Scared, Scully?” His voice is amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She stomps off to the small reception area. It’s decorated with tiny pumpkins, blinking lights and a witch’s head that Scully tries to ignore. Its eyes follow her, seemingly blink at least once.

“Welcome,” the round, elderly woman says in a bored voice. “The Bates Motel welcomes you.”

“Can I ask if-”

“Not to be mistaken with that Bates Motel,” she cuts Mulder off, giving him a stern look. He looks disappointed. “If that’s why you came here, I have to disappoint you.”

“No,” Scully says quickly. “We need two rooms for the night.”

“Two?” The woman glares at them. Her eyes are the same color as those of the witch. Scully forces herself to not look away. She nods.

“Fine. You’re lucky some folks didn’t show up. We’re usually booked solid on Halloween. I don’t know why. But I’ve got two rooms for you. Have a pleasant night.”

“Did she remind you of anyone?” Mulder asks as they’re on their way to their rooms, the key dangling from his finger.

“No,” Scully replies. They’ve reached their rooms, 6 and 7. “Good night, Mulder.” He watches her as she unlocks the door. It opens noisily and he grins again.

“I understand why people come here for Halloween.” Scully barely listens, searching for a light switch in her room. There is none.

“There is no light in here.”

“Can’t be.” Mulder walks past her and she just stands there, watching his shadow move about in her hotel room. She takes a step back, the darkness too inky for her. Another step and she collides with something solid.

“Can I help you?” She screams and runs forward, right into Mulder.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Scully clings to him and Mulder, bless him, holds her without making fun of her.

“I asked if she needed help,” the same voice says again and she faces it now. The man is small, adjusts his glasses. He doesn’t look the least bit scary. Scully clears her throat.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

“She’s tired,” Mulder explains for her, rubbing her arms. The man moves on, opens room number 9 and disappears inside.

“Geez, Scully. You okay?” She nods. “Do you want me to stay in your room tonight?” He grins and this time she rolls her eyes.

“I’m tired, Mulder. I was surprised when I crashed into him, that’s all. I didn’t expect anyone to be there.”

“Sure.” Mulder nods. He doesn’t believe her. “You know this is not the real Bates Motel.”

“I know,” she says through gritted teeth.

“But maybe don’t take a shower, huh?” He winks at her and chuckles. She feels the sudden need to strangle him.

“Good night, Mulder.”

“Night, night. Don’t let the serial murderers bite.”

She can’t sleep. The mattress under her is way too hard. The bed creaks and moans every time she moves. Scully has the distinctive feeling of someone or something watching her. She turns to her other side, stares at the half opened bathroom open. There’s nothing in there. She checked. Twice. But she can’t take her eyes off it. She takes a deep breath, sighs and closes her eyes. Relax, she tells herself. Just- a noise. A noise like footsteps. They sound heavy, determined. Stumbling around as if uncertain where to go. Her breath catches in her lungs. The footsteps fade away, but her heart beats too fast. This is all Mulder’s fault. It’s just an old house. There are other people here, of course. Nothing is - a thud. From the bathroom. Scully reaches for her gun on the bedside table. The metal feels cold in her shaky hands. She aims at the bathroom door, waits, waits and waits.

Nothing happens. Somewhere in another room someone laughs heartily. Scully lowers her gun, shakes her head. She gets comfortable again in the bed, the blanket up to her chin. Just as she closes her eyes, she hears it again: the footsteps. They’re coming from above. Except… there is no second floor. Gun in her hand, she jumps up and leaves the room. She knocks on Mulder’s door, hoping he’s still awake.

“What’s the matter?” He asks groggily as he opens the door. Scully steps inside, paces.

“Do you hear it, too?”

“Hear what?” He scratches his head.

“The footsteps.”

“What footsteps?” Scully points at the ceiling.

“I hear them.”

“Scully, there is nothing there. You said we should get some sleep. Your exhausted mind is playing tricks on you.” He sounds like her. When did he turn into the rational one?

“I’m not going back into that room.”

“You can sleep here.” Scully blushes. She hasn’t thought that far. Sharing a bed with Mulder is not the best idea. “No, I’ll be fine. I just-” outside a bird screeches and Scully startles, running towards Mulder. She finds herself in his arms for the second time this night.

“I should have taken you to a haunted house years ago.” The bastard is grinning.

“It’s not funny,” she mumbles as she crawls into his bed. No creaking or squeaking here. Mulder follows, keeps a professional distance.

“I didn’t know you scare easily.”

“I don’t,” she says quickly. It’s a lie. She thinks back to last year, to Christmas. That damn house. She shudders.

“You cold?” Mulder scoots closer. “Or scared?”

“Neither.” Scully tries to listen for the footsteps, for anything out of the ordinary. She only hears Mulder. His breathing, his watching her. He’s loud in everything he does.

“It’s alright, you know. To be scared? You heard what the lady said. People come here for Halloween. I bet you some kid is playing tricks on his girlfriend.”

“But it wasn’t you?”

“Are you my girlfriend?” His breath tickles her cheek.

“Be serious.”

“Wasn’t me, I swear. I did what you told me to do and slept.” She is quiet, listens again. There is nothing. No murderers on the loose, no crazy people trying to harm them. Just a motel with an unfortunate name on the spookiest night of the year. She chuckles.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” Her eyes drift close and right before sleep captures her, she hears it again. The footsteps.

“Hey, I’m here,” Mulder whispers and puts his arms around her. “It’s a squirrel.”

“Squirrels don’t wear shoes.”

“Shhhh,” he says. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” Mulder’s warmth lulls her to sleep despite herself. In the morning the motel looks dull and boring. Just another house in the middle of nowhere. The owner apologizes for the noises, saying her nephew was drunk out of his mind, getting lost in the attic.

“Told ya,” Mulder grins, but Scully has never been more happy to get back on the road.


End file.
